


A Hundred Words

by jusrecht



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 11:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2065692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jusrecht/pseuds/jusrecht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>100-word Inception drabbles. Various themes and characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (Arthur, Cobb)

When Dom saw him, the dream was collapsing, the floor beneath his feet unraveling into a skeleton of planks and nails—and still he stood rooted, the disputed paper crushed in his hand. Mal had gone ahead, her fall a graceful arc as the waves swept her under.  
  
The young man stared back at him. He wore a three-piece suit designed by inexperienced fingers, awe and resentment bleeding in his eyes. Dom grinned, another wave splashing water and salt onto his face.  
  
“You lose.”  
  
The hull gave forth a terrible moan and Dom tipped himself backward, headfirst into the sea.


	2. A Thousand Suns (Dom/Arthur)

“I’m not that selfless.”  
  
Arthur looks vaguely amused as he steps over the precipice, white marble into thin air. Dom feels his breath hitch, but Arthur remains standing, spine a perfect line beneath an arcing golden sky. Above, the suns numbered as many as stars on night’s canvas.  
  
“A world where I can’t die? Oh Dom.”  
  
When he leans in, Arthur tastes just as he remembers and Dom knows that he is dreaming. The real Arthur should taste of earth and emptiness, six feet under.  
  
Instead, he wakes up to a stark white ceiling overhead and salt in his mouth.


	3. Inside This Marble House (Dom, Mal)

The first time Mal appeared, she glided into their living room, bare feet soundless across soft carpet. Her graceful hands brushed over his rigid fingers, a slow, deliberate touch which whispered ice down his spine, and pried the photo album from their clutch  
  
“Photos always lie, Dom,” her drawl was deeper, smoother than he remembered, caressing his consciousness like dark honey. “They capture moments no longer there. Everything changes, always.”  
  
She picked up one picture of Philippa and James with the tips of her fingers and lit a lighter to burn their faces. Dom’s scream was trapped in his throat.


End file.
